


seeking love in the abyss of depths

by MephiPruz (Mephitztopheles)



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, First Kiss, First Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Virginity, Pre-Canon, Reader-Insert, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-16 04:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21501652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mephitztopheles/pseuds/MephiPruz
Summary: You take part in the ferry job in Blackwater. It looked simple enough from Dutch's perspective: hop in, grab the loot and leave pockets full with just a handful of casualties. But things escalated quickly. That girl, Heidi McCourt was dead, Mac was shot, John was shot and blood tainted your pants a deep crimson colour. Your bag is full but Pinkertons are everywhere and your leg hurts like hell.They took you in years ago, saved you from a life of starvation and from the gallows.You own them everything.Everything.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	1. piacular

**Author's Note:**

> There will be happy and fluffy moments sure, but it's harsh and unforgiving in the long run.
> 
> Obviously, most of what happens in Blackwater is kept secret and a mystery for us to speculate about. Therefore, I took a lot of liberties regarding events and details happening during the raid. I hope you like and enjoy it!!
> 
> Tags will be added as the story goes on!  
> You will be notified at the beginning of chapters if any have been added so you don't miss them!
> 
> **I apologise for the typos and other mistakes, English isn't my first language.**

_…as black water filled her lungs, she died._

i.

A sudden noise rumbled above you and made the whole boat shake.

You felt the vibrations of the explosion echoed within you. The boat tilted on its right side and you didn’t have time to grab onto something before you went crashing violently against cold metal bars on the right side of the cage. You groaned as pain roared through the right side of your body and your head screamed in agony. You tried to move and switch your weight around to relieve some of the pain but you couldn’t as gravity held you strongly against the side of the cage. You whimpered in frustration and held your jaw closed tight in hope to ignore your aching body and throbbing head.

It was too dark to see anything clearly, they only left you with a small lantern at the entrance of the hold of the boat, where the old wooden stairs stood. It was your only exit. The only lightened part in the hold. So close yet so far to reach.

Your eyes fell on your bonded wrists and you sighed. You were locked in a cage with shackles restraining your movement, you had no chances of escape, they made sure of that.

Loud noises were coming from above now. You heard men running and shouting but also gunshots. Your survival instincts kicked in and you were looking everywhere around you now to try and find some ways to escape, as if you hadn’t already done that for what felt like hours.

Body still aching of pain, you made your way close to the cage’s door and tried to kick it open while holding yourself up. It was now or never it seemed. You used all the strength you had left to try and blast it open, you only but pushed harder as you felt water starting to wet your boots and your pants… and fill the hold.

ii.

He looked like an easy target, rich and dumb, the perfect victim for your quick pickpocketing. Over the years, you had become quite skilful. You were charming, young and pretty enough to distract stupid men just long enough for you to rob them blind. Usually, you aimed for a few bills and other valuables. You weren’t too difficult on the matter, anything was good to survive out in the streets, anything helped.

Your approach was simple, you bumped into your target to get his attention, batted your eyelashes a few times to mesmerise him while your fingers made quick work of his golden watch.

With the watch secured in a secret pocket you sewed in your skirt, you excused yourself for being so clumsy and made to leave the man behind. However, as you made your way in the opposite direction he was going, he was quick to grab your left wrist and held you firmly. You gasped and nearly tripped over your worn dirty boots.

“Now hold on a second here,” the man hissed as he made sure you didn’t go any further. His voice was low and he closely studied your surprising expression. “Don’t you go anywhere just yet.”

He looked frightening and you swore he saw right through your little act.

“What is wrong with you?” You yelped, your voice cracking on the last syllable. “Let me go mister!”

Your eyes grew wild as you noticed people down the streets looking towards your direction. He was making a scene and you couldn’t afford that.

You quickly looked around seeking help. Your eyes met with the ones of a young woman dressed beautifully, the horror on her face was easily readable as if she wished she wasn’t at your place right now. She grabbed onto her husband’s arm whispering something to him. Whatever she told him was lost as the bell of the tramway echoed somewhere around you.

You fought against his grip screaming for help as you played the victim but he just wouldn’t let go. No one seemed eager to come to your rescue. The thought itself was sickening. Would they even bother to help you if you were getting attacked out in the open? Probably not, as they were too scared to get involved with any bad business happening in the streets. In your head, you cursed them. You cursed them all for you could trust no one but yourself.

“Give back what you stole, thief!”

_Oh no._

Everyone around was now staring, judging as if they had the right to do so. You felt their eyes pierced through your soul, through your sins. You heard someone run to get a representative of the law while others kept on looking at you with shame and disgust. The young woman from earlier was now covering her mouth with her luxurious embroidered gloves made out of the finest lace, shocked. Her husband, older than she was, was quick to drag her away making sure her extravagant purple dress didn’t get dirty from the muddy pavement.

“You’ve gone mad mister! I ain’t no thief,” you shouted back at the man you robbed, defending yourself. You learned to keep your cool over the years and to just keep on acting innocent. “Let go of me!”

But he still wouldn’t.

You panicked as you heard the blow of a whistle and saw a lawman coming towards you. It seemed like the man that ran away to get the police was successful then.

Rational thoughts were cut short as your instincts kicked in. You had to leave, and fast. You snarled and quickly took out a small knife out of your right boot before stabbing the man’s forearm. He screamed in agony and finally let go of your now bruised wrist.

“You bitch!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, full of hatred. He went to put his other hand on the wound to try and stop the bleeding while you ran to escape. He muttered another insult under his breath then shouted for someone to stop you. “Don’t let her escape!”

You ran, breathing heavily, lungs burning as if you were drowning.

iii.

Muscles aching and fighting over the pain, you kept kicking the cage’s door with all your strength. The water was rising too quickly, it soaked your boots and made them slippery which made it harder for you to not hurt yourself after kicking the metal bars. You screamed out for help but no one came in running to rescue you. You didn’t pause to gain back your breath, no.

No one was coming, you had to get out on your own.

The sound of your heels hitting the cold metals echoed in the hold, resonated within your bones. Blood tainted your pants. They had the decency to bandage your wounded right thigh while in custody but your repetitive assault on the door reopened your wound, the graze of a gunshot. You knew very well that it wasn’t wise to put all your weight on such a fresh injury but in this situation, as black water was still rising and filling the hold, you ignored the pain and kept on kicking.

_I’m not going to die like this._

iv.

The streets of Chicago were busy on this fine and sunny afternoon. The sun was a nice change from yesterday’s weather and everyone was out shopping or on a promenade to enjoy the sun’s warmth.

The rain had been awful and had lasted all day until late at night. The night before, you had been able to rent one night at a cheap hotel and even get the chance to wash yourself and your dirty clothes. You had found shelter in a saloon surprised around midday by the amount of water pouring from the grey clouds. The saloon had been crowded as you hadn’t been the only one avoiding the rain. There, you also had to ignore drunken fools that had wished to get under your skirt after suggesting a drink or for a few coins. Thankfully, most of them had just walked away leaving you alone after you politely explained you weren’t that kind of woman. You were desperate for money but never to the point where you would sell your body for a mere price.

You kept on running for what felt like endless minutes. Your heart was beating so fast it made you deaf to your surroundings. The only sounds you could identify were the ones of your heels knocking against the pavement, now dry compared to yesterday and your difficult and loud breathing. You somehow smoothly avoided the civilians wandering around, though you nearly got trampled to death by four heavy horses dragging a carriage around town as you crossed the road. You found refuge in a dark alley, hoping to go through a short-cut and end up on the main street where most of the shops were. At this time of the day, it had to be crowded, full of gentlemen and ladies seeking to purchase the latest fashion and other eccentric articles.

The alley was narrow, dirty and full of garbage of all kinds – some still wet as the sun found no place here to shine. At the end of it stood a rusty metal gate: your way out. The way that could guide you to the main street where you hoped to lose the lawmen after you. Out of the crowd, you walked slowly to not raise any suspicion. You still looked over your shoulder, behind you, anxious that the men in blue were about to jump on you. But no one was there. The alley was deserted except for three pigeons cooing while resting on a balcony.

You pitched your nose as you got close to the gate, struck vividly by the horrible smell of piss there. You grimaced in disgust as you quickened your pace and jogged the last meters left, splashing black water on the bottom of your skirt as you ran into a puddle. Your hands found the gate, feeling the cold metal on your skin. The paint there was cracking and as you pushed it opened, the gate barely moved an inch. Shivers ran up your spine as you suddenly felt a cold breeze pass through the alley, blowing your hair in the process. You had come so far you couldn’t give up now. You took a step back and inhaled sharply, ignoring the humidity and terrible smell hovering in the air. With all your strength you kicked the gate opened in a dreadful noise, metal grating against the pavement. You smiled with relief as you left the obscure alley behind you and reached the main street. The sun reappeared and you suddenly had to cover your eyes to try and avoid being blinded by the vibrant light. Your senses slowly came back to you as you heard people chatting and laughing, identified the sound of hooves knocking in a rhythm against the road followed by a little boy’s voice shouting the latest news, a pile of newspapers at his feet.

Your reflection came to view as you looked around and found the vitrine of a café. It was the middle of the afternoon so most of the people in there already had eaten and were simply enjoying coffee, tea or whatever alcohol they preferred to poison themselves with. It was charming from the quick look you got from inside, tidy and crowded of gentlemen smoking and ladies talking gossip over cakes. You ignored the complaints of your stomach as you eyed the mouth-watering desserts in the plates of the customers and focused instead on your reflection.

You looked debauched, a real mess and you were only now slowly regaining a normal breathing rhythm. Red tainted your rounded cheeks and sweat made your clothes stuck closely to your body. Reaching for a handkerchief carefully tucked away in your bag, you dried your face erasing clues that you had just ran away from the police. As the wave of people passed you by, you fixed your appearance as much as you could, ignoring that people could see you do so.

You put strands of hair out of your face and tried to make your now ruined braid look decent.

You looked tidier than a beggar but your clothes were worn, used. Your blouse was slowly losing its colour, fading into a pale sorry blue while your skirt had dirty spots you never were able to fully remove. Your brown boots were a sorry sight and worn-out. The leather was scratched in all kinds of places after being abused for so many years. The heels had gradually lost their original height, slowly eaten away over the years by the humidity and the rough pavement. Your boots probably were too small for you now but you didn’t have the money to buy yourself a new pair and even if you could, you would rather spend it on food.

After a last glance at your reflection, you turned to wander into the crowd but were abruptly stopped as you felt someone grabbing onto your arm who then, dragged you back into the dark alley, away from peering eyes. You tried to scream, startled by the sudden action but found yourself unable to as a gloved hand covered your mouth quickly. One arm went around your neck cutting your breathing for a second and the other around your waist to hold you tight.

“Gotcha little princess,” a man whispered in your ear. You could hear the amusement in his voice and could picture, oh so clearly, the smirk on his twisting face. Your pleas were muffled and as you tried to fight back against his grip, he held you tighter. “I wouldn’t fight back if I were you. I’m not a good guy and I could take you elsewhere than to the police, trust me.” Your blood ran cold when you understood the weight of his words, the promise there to make you regret you moved just a mere muscle. Your breathing accelerated in a faster and irregular pace. Your whole body tensed when you felt something wet and hot just where his mouth was.

You squirmed in disgust and closed your eyes when you felt his tongue licked your lobe.

“Behave,” he ordered you. This time, his tone was menacing and you were genuinely afraid of what he could do to you. His dark promise hanging in the air as you evaluated your possible escape. Unfortunately, the man was taller and seemed way stronger than you were. Your malnourished body stood no chance against a man of his stature.

While his left hand still made sure you couldn’t make your voice heard, his other roamed around your front. His touch was light but you still couldn’t ignore it, it wandered over your breast then travelled lower.

_Lower_.

_No one had ever-_

He stopped, laughing out of mischief.

“Ain’t you a sight to behold,” he hummed as his hot breath tickled your sensitive ear. “Maybe when you’re done and served your time in jail, I’ll come pay you a visit. Call it a simple social call.” He crushed his body against yours, his face settling in the crook of your neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Tears formed in your eyes as a horrible feeling settled in your guts. You were trapped but saw an unexpected opening when a lawman passed in front of the alley. You squirmed which surprised the man holding you down and he let you loose just enough for you to remove his hand over your mouth and call out to the lawman. You really were desperate enough to seek help from the people looking for you. They surely would treat you better, right? You hoped so at least.

The officer turned his gaze in your direction and suddenly ordered the man to let you go entirely after analysing quickly what he saw. Your harasser still kept his grip on one of your arm just to make sure you didn’t run anywhere but he let you go and put some distance between the two of you. You were just relieved to finally be somewhat away from him.

“Let the woman go!” The officer shouted, a hand hanging close to his holster.

“Relax, this is a misunderstanding,” the man next to you said as he tried to calm the officer and lure him into his side. “That’s the girl who robbed and stabbed the gentleman up Adams Street.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! You really caught her then” The officer did relax then and frowned as he now looked at you. “Hand her over here, we will deal with this delinquent.”

The lawman unhooked handcuffs from his belt and walked towards you in a confident strut. You tried to make a run for it but the man next to you still held you tight. Soon after, you were out of his reach and your wrists were bonded together, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine. They were heavy, a manifestation of your sins. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding down and sighed, a weight settling on your shoulders.

“Thank you, sir!” The lawman said with a smile as he turned to look at the other man. “The city owns you a great debt. We truly need more people like you.”

“Just doing my job, officer.”

At least you were free to look at the man that caught you now. He was tall and dressed all in black giving him a threatening silhouette. He lived rough and a dangerous life as showed the huge scar you saw on the side of his face. He looked at you with burning eyes, an eagerness in them that scared you. He was like a predator looking at his prey. You averted your eyes, uncomfortable to meet his gaze.

“Come on then.”

The officer grabbed your arms and slowly started to walk the way he just came from. “It’s the jail for you, thief!” He shouted in a voice that was too high pitched to be threatening. “Until you answer from your crimes.”

“Let me come with you,” the dangerous man behind you suggested with a strong voice. His presence was a reminder that if he was to escort you, you had no chance to escape along the way. “She is fast and wild. Wouldn’t want such a rare treat to go anywhere.”

You finally saw his smirk and your stomach twisted in disgust.

There was no way you were getting out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favourite cowboys will make an appearance next chapter!


	2. absquatulate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags added:  
>  **Pre-Canon / First Kiss / First Relationship / Canon-typical violence / Gun Violence / Canonical Character Death / Fluff / Hurt-Comfort / Loss of Parent(s)**
> 
> Important note that the "Major Character Death" warning is not for Arthur.  
> This story takes place before Colter and the game itself. Our boy is safe, so no worries!
> 
> I thought it would be also important to point out that this story is what I consider to be fragmented.  
> I hope it still makes enough sense though... The main focus is obviously your ascension within the gang.
> 
> **I apologise for the typos and other mistakes, English isn't my first language.**

You were quiet as you were led into the precinct.

One of the policemen removed your handcuffs, relieving you of their heavyweight then pushed you, not so kindly, into one of the cells. He then snatched away your satchel and took away your belongings. The building itself was large and spacious. What surprised you the most was that you seemed to be the only prisoner here, for the moment at least. Other cells were adjacent to yours but all seemed to be empty.

The metal door was shut behind you, the lock’s sound a fatality that crushed your hopes of escape.

“What’s your name ma’am?” One of the officers asked you with a firm tone. He was way older than the officer who had brought you in. He seemed more experienced, a man who had seen his fair share of bad men. His grey hair betrayed his old age as well as the wrinkles around his eyes.

He took out a pencil and some papers out of a nearby desk then came close enough to your cell to have a good look at you. It probably was to write down the information he was about to extort – information you were not willing to share at the moment.

The look of apathy he gave was bone-chilling, so you preferred to look away and to simply go and sit on the cot. It was the only comfort the cell had to offer.

You’ve never been in prison nor have you exchanged much with lawmen before. It was in a moment like this that you realised you were quite clueless as to what exactly could happen to you. You chose a more cautious approach and decided to remain silent for the time being.

“Not the talkative sort then, I see. That won’t work in your favours.”

He clicked his tongue making a noise out of frustration then turned towards the two men standing behind him. The other officer went rigid as his superior was now paying attention to him, questioning him on the events. His answers were vague as he wasn’t the one who ran after you. It was the man in black that cut him off to settle the matter.

“She stole something from a fine gentleman on Adams Street,” he announced sounding almost bored, nonchalant. “He noticed however so he grabbed her and made sure she wouldn’t go anywhere. Since he wouldn’t let her go, she stabbed the poor man and ran away.”

The policeman made sure to write everything down, nodding at the same time showing he acknowledged what the other man was telling him. He then proceeded to ask the man’s name so he could make his statement official.

“Eric Davis, sir.” He replied with cockiness and a sense of pride as if the name was supposed to be linked to some kind of fame. “I’m a bounty hunter.”

“It’s Lieutenant Crawford not _sir_ , Mr. Davis,” the older lawman corrected, slightly annoyed by the man’s behaviour. It was no secret that bounty hunters were frowned upon all across the country, especially in big cities like these. “Thank you for these details. This will help us so we can judge this woman fairly.”

“Of course, lieutenant.” The bounty hunter made a pause, unused to be corrected like this. He was not stupid enough to anger the man in charge of the police force of Chicago. He could be diplomatic for his own interests. “My apologies, I didn’t mean no disrespect.”

But the policeman ignored him entirely, his focus elsewhere. He was already giving orders to the other policeman standing close to the cell.

“Officer Morrow,” he called out with squinted eyes which only but deepened his wrinkles. “If you would so kind as to find this gentleman so we can get his statement as well. If our thief here stabbed him, it’s safe to say you ought to find him in the nearest doctor around Adams Street.”

“Right away, lieutenant.” His sentence wasn’t even finished that the younger policeman was already rushing out of the building to go and find the victim.

You watched the whole scene shyly, trying to make yourself as small as possible and hoping that this whole mess was to end soon. The lieutenant finally turned his attention back to you, leaving the papers and the pencil on the desk he earlier gathered these from. He then grabbed your satchel left resting on the fine but used wooden furniture and started to look through what was inside. That made you stand up.

“Hey, you have no right to–”

“Oh I have every right ma’am,” he cut you off, irritated, as he took things out of your bag and laid them on the desk one by one. “I am the embodiment of the Law after all.” You watched in disbelief as the older man put down the handkerchief that you used earlier as well as a silver pocket watch you stole a few days back. You intended to sell it soon to a fence, along with the golden one that was still hidden in your secret pocket. He paused looking at the watch and opened it to see if anything was interesting inside – any information as who could you be.

“Is that yours?” He questioned while showing the silver pocket watch up so you could see it.

“Yes,” you responded bluntly, knowing full well that if you denied that it was yours, he would claim that it was the one you stole from the gentleman earlier.

“What are the initials in it then?” The lieutenant asked you, walking slowly towards your cell so he could have a closer look at your visage. “What do they stand for?”

It sure would have been a tricky question if you hadn’t known the answer.

You could clearly picture it in your hands again.

02:18 am. The night had been dark and the city’s streets empty at this hour.

The pocket watch was still working and looked in good condition. Your fingers had been numb and a vivid red as you had tried to open it to see the time and what the engravings looked like inside. You had hoped they were as gorgeous and defined as they were on the outside.

They were.

The whole watch looked well-made, baroque. You were no expert but from your experience stealing those, you could imagine a good price for it. Enough to set you for real proper meals and a roof above your head.

“G. and C. for George Crowns,” you exhorted glaring at the older man. “It was my father’s watch.”

Lieutenant Crawford was silent as he processed what you had just told him. He frowned, deep in thoughts then walked back to the desk to look further into your bag. You expected him to say something or make a comment but he just searched it for a couple more minutes. It’s only after he was done that he let it rest on the desk next to your belongings. He didn’t take much more out of it – a couple of dollars you had left, a broken comb, another used handkerchief some fancy lady had forgotten somewhere you passed by, a book with beautiful illustrations of the wildlife missing a few pages near the end and a small decorated flask you used to put clean water in it.

You couldn’t tell if he believed you or not but you knew for a fact that you had said the right set of initials engraved in the watch. Sure, it wasn’t your father’s and you had no idea what the initials truly stood for but you just hoped it sounded legit enough to be left alone on the matter. Your answer seemed to have satisfied him since he didn’t ask more questions about it.

“Well Miss Crowns,” the lieutenant begun, turning his attention back to you. The name sounded strange to your ears but you kept your mouth shut and let him believe it was yours. “If what Mr. Davis here says is true, then it means you will need to pay a twenty dollars’ bounty to leave this place free of charges.”

“Twenty dollars?” You repeated loudly. “You can’t be serious!”

“You’re under arrest for robbing and assaulting an innocent man. You didn’t steal an apple off a market.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you shouted back trying to defend yourself. You pointed towards the bounty hunter before continuing. “That man is lying. He didn’t see nothing!”

Pleas escaped your lips as you tried to make the lieutenant change his mind but he stood firm and ignored everything you had to say. He finally interrupted you, putting both his hands up as if he was surrendering.

Not quite.

“Well, we will have to wait for Officer Morrow to come back with the injured gentleman then.” The older lawman sighed then scratched his itchy cheek where grey chops were growing. “In the meantime, get comfortable. You might stay here a while.”

“I don’t have enough money to pay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling dizzy and nauseous. The realisation crushed your heart. And it ached, screamed within your hollow chest.

Even if your voice was low, the lieutenant heard you just fine and added, “then I guess the next time you’ll be outside, it will be for your own execution.”

_No_.

He showed you no mercy and disappeared somewhere you didn’t care to look at. Your knees gave out as if the weight of your sins brought you down to the ground, defeated. You caught yourself just in time to not hurt yourself and just sat next to the dirty and rough cot. Your hand closed over your mouth as you tried to hold back a whimper, an ugly sob. Tears landed on your skirt tainting it in a darker shade of brown.

“Oh don’t worry princess,” someone murmured close to you, a tempting voice trying to comfort you in your sorrow. “I’ll get you out of here, promised.”

Your heart clutched tightly at the promise but as you looked up to see who it was, you grimaced in disdain. Your vision was blurred because of your tears but you could still make out the ugly scar on the man’s visage. He was at your level, crouching and holding on one of the metal bars of the cell.

“You stay away from me,” you hissed, frowning and feeling a rage boiling inside you. “It’s because of you I’m here!”

“Now, now, no need to blame me for that. You brought this to yourself darling,” Eric teased smiling widely. There was no warmth there, just a cold and manipulative smirk. You hated him before but now you wished only to see him suffer. A man like him had sinned more than once and yet, he always seemed to have gotten away. To see him walk freely in the police’s building was sickening.

“I would never lead a damsel in distress to the wolf’s den. No, of course not!” He joked with a malicious expression on his ugly face. “Unless it serves my interests.”

“You’re a monster,” you snapped, drying your tears with your sleeve and leaving your eyes bright red.

“If you think that already, just wait until you see what I’ll do to you once you’re out.”

He tried to reach out through the bars to touch you but you slapped his gloved hand away violently as he got closer to your delicate face. Erich simply laughed shortly, enjoying the way you fought back.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m not going out,” you growled at him before moving further away in case he was to try anything else on you.

“Oh but you are,” he told you, his sharp dark eyes never leaving you. They shone dangerously, like the ones of a predator eyeing his prey before he was to leap at its throat, tearing the flesh apart. “I’ll let that fine gentleman you attacked come make a statement and then tomorrow, I’ll come to pay off your bounty. Make you mine.”

“You can’t do this! They won’t let you.”

“Why not?” He asked, amused. He stood up meeting your gaze from higher. His shadow hid you away from the light and you felt shivers running up your spine as you looked at his face again. He truly looked like a monster just then. With no source of light reaching his features, he looked menacing, his cold yet burning eyes the only thing clearly visible. “Lawmen are still men. They will bend to your will if you pay them well. This whole city is corrupted, the Law ain’t no different. Don’t be naïve.”

You looked away hoping that in doing so, Eric Davis, a horrible and vicious creature, would disappear just like the lieutenant had a few minutes earlier. A heavy silence hung in the air. His words echoed in your mind as you slowly realised just how messy your situation had gotten since you had woken up this fine and sunny morning. You were only trying to survive and now you were to be sent to the gallows or sold as some sort of slave.

‘I’ll let you rest for now,” the bounty hunter uttered as he strutted towards the double wooden doors of the building. “See you tomorrow, princess!”

You crawled in the corner of the cell, crying as your hands went to cover your closed eyes. You sobbed letting out all your worst fears take over your spirit and mind. You were suddenly reminded of what a nun had told you at the orphanage so many years ago. You had been small, wild and rebellious, eager to be free.

“God sees all child. If you sin, He shall punish you as harshly as your actions. Be kind and merciful and He shall grant you happiness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want Arthur Morgan to snap Eric Davis' neck clap your hands *clap* *clap*
> 
> Sorry, Arthur was supposed to appear in this chapter but it turned out to be over 2k words and I preferred to cut it here. Otherwise, it would have turned into a 5K chapter and I would have taken longer to post.


	3. vicissitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags added:  
>  **Slow Burn / Slow Build**
> 
> I wasn't sure until recently if I should consider this story as a slow-burn one but it turns out that yes, it is definitely one.  
> What can I say? Arthur is a difficult one to accept love alright...
> 
> The end of the year is always tricky for me because I get all my exams before Christmas and even more in early January. I'm basically spending all my time studying while everyone is enjoying the holidays. Oh well. Because of this, writing will be slow until the end of January. I do aim for one chapter per month though since I can never promise one every week.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing and lovely [Lepa93](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lepa93) for being the beta reader of this story! ♥  
> English isn't our first language however so you might still find some typos and other mistakes, sorry.

i.

Officer Morrow came back later in the afternoon with the victim of your crime. The poor man looked haunted and pale as a ghost. His normally black sleeve was now covered with dried bloodstains, proof that the wound had bled a lot. It did look like the wound you inflicted on the man had him bleeding quite a lot but you had been fast to leave once you had removed the blade from his flesh.

You hadn’t stayed long enough to look.

The officer made the gentleman sit on a chair then left the main room for the lieutenant’s office. A few seconds later, Lieutenant Crawford exited his office followed behind by Officer Morrow, holding papers in his hand. He didn’t waste any time and greeted the injured man with a polite yet, lifeless smile.

ii.

As expected, the man recognised you right away.

When he asked about his golden pocket watch, you lied and told him that you had thrown it somewhere as you were running away from the police. The lieutenant pressured you, trying to get more information on the matter but you quickly turned him down claiming that you couldn’t recall what street nor where it could be.

He left the building once his statement was done and you remained in jail, hopeless and quiet.

iii.

The evening was slowly settling in as you watched the sunset bathing the room in its warm colour palette. Even in your desperate situation, you found its beauty to be admired and appreciated. Not long after, the colours grew colder and the night could now be seen out of the barred windows. How you longed to be outside rather than locked up in this building.

You were suffocating in here.

You had found yourself on the old and uncomfortable cot. It kept on making horrible squeaking noises every time you moved so you preferred to stay still and think of something to distract yourself from the recent events that occurred. You curled up on yourself, holding your arms close to your body in hope to find some warmth as the evening’s breeze slipped through under the door and into the room.

You wished to watch the stars but the street lights were far too bright and didn’t allow you to see much of anything. Maybe their shining halo would bring you enlightenment? Even if they did, they were out of your reach so you just stared at the old and cracking wall.

You had been lost in your thoughts ever since the policemen and Eric Davis had left you alone in your cell.

You didn’t plan on giving up so easily and were already working on a little plan to turn the situation around and get yourself out of this mess. You were not dying with a rope around your neck nor enslaved to that monster of a bounty hunter. You had more to live for.

Surely, after your failed robbery it was best if you left Chicago altogether. You decided it was better to just sell what you could to a fence and make a run out of the city to get as far away as possible. Chicago was a big city where you could easily hide and lie low, unnoticed. Even though you were sure that the police had better things to do than chase after a common thief like you, you weren’t willing to try and test that theory so you decided to leave as soon as possible. It was the most obvious of choices, the safest too.

Tomorrow, Eric Davis will pay off your bounty.

You will follow him and submit until you’re just far away enough from the precinct to stab him in the back and make a run for it. You will hop on the back of a wagon if you need to but you were getting out of there and away from that mad man.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the main doors of the building were abruptly opened. From where you were laying down, you could see policemen drag a man covered in blood into the room. It took three, nearly four lawmen to bring him into a cell. You could see that the man was trying to get himself free, out of their grip but they held him strongly.

You jumped a bit when the metal barred door was roughly closed.

“You better calm down if you don’t want to finish hogtied in your cell,” threatened Officer Morrow, frowning, as he looked at the man with disgust. The policeman seemed to have taken the initiative to interrogate the man since Lieutenant Crawford had left in the late afternoon. “I’m sure you’re clever enough to know what’s good for you.”

Curious, you found yourself looking at the exchange. You remained on the cot, turning slowly and quietly to have a better sight on the scene. Your movements were careful since you didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention. The cot betrayed you and still made quite the noise once you were done and staring at both men.

Thankfully, they seemed to be ignoring you.

The stranger, locked up in a similar cell as yours, was truly a mess.

He tried to stand tall while staring at the police officer but his balance was unsure and he would have fallen down if he hadn’t been quick enough to catch himself on one of the bars. He laughed shortly before wiping the blood from his busted bottom lip with the back of his other hand. He then, spat blood and saliva at the officer’s feet.

The policeman only but frowned harder, crossing his arms while glaring at the stranger.

“Why did you kill that man in the saloon?” He questioned the prisoner with piercing eyes.

“I didn’t kill nobody friend,” the stranger retorted firmly, not turning his gaze away from the lawman. “I was just defending myself. It ain’t my fault that idiot slipped and broke his damned neck.”

His voice was low, rough and menacing which sent chills all over your body. As if you were cold, you held your arms closer to your body, a heavy feeling settling in your stomach. You pictured him to be quite a violent man, someone who submitted to violence at any given opportunity. His bottom lip was swollen and still bleeding. You watched as his tongue licked the blood away but he grimaced right after, probably due to the awful metallic taste as well as the pain it had to cause him. His left eyelid was slightly closed and you could imagine that he would soon have quite the bruise there. Both his hands were bloody, his knuckles were bruised and scarlet red under the bright light of the room. His white shirt and pants were covered with bloodstains, some bigger than others. His clothes were also a bit wet and dusty as if he had rolled on the ground.

You couldn’t tell if the blood was his or someone else’s.

The thought alone made you gag.

You watched as the officer kept questioning the prisoner on the events that led to the death of a man. You paid little attention to what they were saying, from your cell, you only had eyes for the stranger.

That man–

Here he was accused of murder and it didn’t seem to affect him whatsoever. He almost seemed bored but mostly angry and annoyed.

“It’s Officer Morrow to you,” the lawman corrected him, trying his best to be intimidating. You swore that man was trying to act tougher than he was just because he seemed to be in charge while the lieutenant was away. You made no comment on the matter though. You preferred to remain out of the exchange. You had problems of your own after all.

“Whatever you say Officer _Moron_ ,” the stranger replied with a big smile on his face, proud of his joke. It was gone quickly however, as the stretch of his lips hurt him. He grimaced then turned his back to the lawman showing that he was done with the conversation. “I’ll be out in no time anyways.”

“If you’re getting out of this cell it will be with a noose around your neck!”

The officer stomped his way out of the room, furious.

The stranger snorted, unfazed to insult an officer of the law. His smirk was small now, aware that if too wide it would only but hurt him again. There was a spark in his eyes as if he knew something the policeman didn’t. He went to sit on his own cot trying to clean himself the best way he could with his already ruined shirt.

“Can’t even get water to get cleaned up in this so-called civilised city,” he mumbled to himself before sighing at the state of his hands. You never had been injured like this so you wouldn’t know what that felt like but you could easily imagine that it had to hurt pretty badly. He wiped his forehead with one of his sleeves removing the sweat there then passed a hand in his blond hair, careful to not rub on his wounded knuckles.

It was strange seeing him like this – vulnerable as he thought he was alone in the room. His cockiness was gone leaving a sad and heavy feeling hovering in the air. He seemed less intimidating now, a weight settling on his broad shoulders.

You felt your heart clenched as you stared at him.

He was a sinner and a killer yet, as you watched him now sitting with his head lowered and a sigh escaping his lips, you saw a different man. You could see someone with a burden and you almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

You couldn’t lay still forever and as your body was growing numb, you ended up moving ever so slightly but enough to send the cot under you squeaking again. This time however, the stranger seemed to hear it since he wasn’t busy talking to the officer anymore. He turned his head in your direction with an arched eyebrow, confused as to where exactly did that sound come from. When his eyes perceived your form in the corner of your cell, you watched him as his eyes opened widely. You ought to say something but you found yourself unable to form any syllables nor even to move.

“What are you looking at woman?” He hissed angrily and stood up abruptly in an attempt to appear menacing. You saw no real hatred in his gaze more something like shame, he seemed just surprised to be caught off-guard in his vulnerable state.

You quickly turned to look the other way and mumbled some excuse. It was barely audible as you still hadn’t found your voice yet.

You couldn’t see him anymore but you heard him growl out of frustration and pace around his cell, like a wounded lion trapped in a cage. You felt him stare at your back form from time to time but you preferred to ignore it seeking to find some rest instead. You needed strength for what awaited you tomorrow.

iv.

The boat moaned as it sank further down into the depths.

Black water swarmed in from everywhere, from every crack and opening. It flowed in, angry and hungry. It rose and rose, soaking your boots and pants and didn’t stop as you aimed to grab onto the top bars of the cage.

You kept on kicking the metal door and only stopped when the level of the water became too high for you to properly apply force into it. Both your legs were underwater and you couldn’t touch the floorboard anymore. You had to swim to keep your head above the level of water.

You were delaying the inevitable now.

You placed your mouth and nose between two metal bars and pushed yourself the highest you could. The top of the cage was close to the ceiling but still, it left some room you wouldn’t be able to utilise when water would rise up higher.

You inhaled all the air your lungs allowed as black water tickled your chin and nose. When you felt the water on your lips, you closed your eyes and had no other choice but to dive lower while holding your breath.

When you opened your eyes underwater, you couldn’t see anything. You stared into the abyss, hopeless, as black water surrounded you. It was cold and when you pressed your face against the top of the cage in hope to breathe in more air, all you found was water – black water filling your lungs.

_Please._

_I don’t want to die._

v.

You didn’t dream that night nor did you feel completely rested as you were awoken suddenly by noises around you. Intrigued, you sat up and looked around you. Your eyes found the stranger of the other cell. He seemed more relaxed than earlier, laying down on his own cot with his arm covering his eyes in an attempt to block out the harmful bright lights of the room. You heard people talking and were surprised to find an old man sitting on a desk, bottles of some kind of alcohol in hands, speaking loudly to the little group of lawmen working so early in the morning.

A quick look outside told you that it wasn’t even morning just yet. You suddenly came to realise that you could easily tell what time it was exactly just by looking at the golden pocket watch you still had hidden in your secret pocket. After making sure that no one was looking at you, you reached for it in your pocket and took it out to open it. It was close to being four in the morning, the night was still dark and most of the policemen in the room had been here all night. They seemed more than happy to share a drink with this older man.

Given that you still didn’t quite feel rested, you went to lay down again and hope to fall asleep once more.

vi.

The room hadn’t quite quieted down as you tried to sleep again.

You stayed laying down on your cot with your eyes closed as you listened to the group of men. The old man was telling stories and refilling the lawmen’s glasses as he went on and on for what felt like hours. They all sounded drunk by now and you could even hear one of the policemen snoring on his desk. The others soon followed either too tired or too drunk to stay awake.

You sighed coming in terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t be able to find any more sleep in those conditions. You turned in your cot to stare at the ceiling, hands crossed, resting on your stomach.

It’s then, that you heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of one of the cell.

“Would it not have been easier to just kill them?” The blond man asked the older man grunting in pain as he stood up slowly from his cot. He walked out of his cell, free, putting a black worn hat on his head.

“Let’s just get out of here. You have caused enough trouble already,” the old man articulated with a frown.

You were on your feet in a blink of an eye grabbing the metal bars of your cell to be the closest you could be to the two strangers. You called out to them, careful to not be too loud in fear of waking up the whole bunch of lawmen still snoring and drooling on their desks. You watched as both of them turned their attention to you.

“Hey! Hey… Could you get me out of there too?” You asked with a quiet voice. “Please.”

You hadn’t begged for anything in years.

You saw yourself young again, a lost little girl freezing to death in the middle of the night begging with opened palms for some chunk of bread, anything to quiet down your screaming hunger. You remembered clearly how the world would ignore you then, how some would look sadly at you and others with disgust as if you were nothing but a parasite. It was one winter, weak and shaking like a leaf that you had stolen food for the first time. The satisfaction of filling your empty stomach had overcome the heavy feeling of guilt of your sin. Never again had you relied on others.

The old man looked at you with piercing eyes as if he was trying to look through your soul. His eyes never left you as you lowered your head to look at the floor. You felt tears in your eyes as fear overtook your senses. What if your plan was to fail tomorrow? What if you couldn’t run away from that bounty hunter? Would he kill you or leave you to rot in some awful place?

The metal bars in your hands were cold and sturdy, a horrible reminder that you were trapped here. The last time you had been trapped and denied freedom was when you were placed in that orphanage many years ago. Living in the streets was difficult but at least you were free.

“Hosea…” You heard the other man whisper to his friend. “She just looks like trouble, we ain’t got time for this.”

The older man ignored him completely and walked in your direction with the keys in hand – the keys of your salvation. You had a hard time believing this was real but after he turned the key in and opened the metal door, you found yourself free once more. You walked slowly towards it expecting some kind of tricks but nothing happened. You left your cell and turned to look at the white-haired man.

“What’s your name miss?” He asked you, a soft smile on his face.

You were taken aback by the sudden question and stared at his warm brown eyes for a few seconds thinking you had misheard him. You were about to answer when the other man interrupted you pressing on the matter that you all had to leave before anyone noticed the situation. When you turned your attention to him, he was looking at you with a look you couldn’t really decipher.

“You’re right.” The older man acknowledged with a nod. “Maybe we could lock them up in the cells?”

“Like we have time for that,” the other man argued as he made his way out of the precinct leaving you and his friend behind.

You blinked a few times before you regained some grasp of what was happening. You turned away from the older man and walked quickly yet carefully towards the group of lawmen to try and grab your satchel. Once you made sure everything was still in there, you looked back behind you to see the stranger put the keys back where he had grabbed them from – the officer’s belt.

“Come on then,” he whispered to you before making his way out of the building.

You followed behind him, fast but on the tip of your toes to avoid making too much noise with your heels.

vii.

The outside was still dark and as you looked up to witness the marvel of the stars, you were disappointed to see that it was far too cloudy to see any of them. You were grabbed abruptly and taken out of the main street to a quieter alley where no one could notice you. You were too stunned to even let out a sound of distress. You looked at the hand holding your arm and recognised right away the busted knuckles from the tall and broad-shouldered stranger.

“I ain’t Hosea,” he hissed at you with piercing eyes. “I don’t trust you one bit so you stick with us until we’re far enough we can make it out of town safely.”

He wasn’t the vulnerable man you saw sitting on that cot anymore. He was the lion once more, threatening and showing sharp teeth and claws.

“Arthur, you don’t need to rough up that poor girl. Look at her, she is beyond frightened.”

You were afraid and getting cold but you couldn’t stop staring at the man holding your arm and keeping you against the wall with no chances of escape. His grip was tight and it would have bothered you a lot more if only it hadn’t been so warm. The breeze wasn’t too fierce but you still felt it reaching through your thin clothes and hit your bones.

That man, Arthur, did take a good look at you now. His eyes were intense and a shade of blue you had never seen before. His pupils were pitch black, dilated and surrounded by a yellow halo swimming in a stunning blue. You longed to see these eyes under the light of the sun where you knew they would shine at their best.

He let go of your arm and you were suddenly brought back to reality. You blinked reconnecting with your surroundings and looked down, away from his burning stare. He stepped away from you, giving you some space to finally breathe calmly while your hands went to grab onto your satchel’s strap in hope to gain back some composure. He walked ahead further down the dark alley as the older man, Hosea came close to you.

“We won’t bring you harm miss,” he promised you while putting a gentle and reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Just follow us towards the borders of town. The nights can be dangerous and lawmen could be lurking around.”

He pointed with an opened palm at the end of the alley and nodded for you to advance further down. Still holding on your satchel, your feet moved to follow behind the other stranger. Strangely enough, you knew nothing about them and yet, your instincts told you to trust this man. You had your reserves on the blond one, Arthur who seemed to be impulsive and quite unpredictable but this Hosea seemed more grounded, a man that you could trust. He was the one who had freed you after all.

Your heels echoed in the dark and empty streets of Chicago.

You weren’t sure where exactly you were going nor what awaited you after these men reached the safe borders of the city. One thing for sure was what you left behind: death and pain. You weren’t exactly sure what you had traded them for but surely, it couldn’t be as bad.

You noticed the few glances Arthur gave you but paid them no mind knowing he was just making sure you weren’t doing any funny business. Still, it was hard for you to ignore them and you found yourself looking down at the pavement and your boots to avoid showing your embarrassment. You could feel your cheeks heating up too which didn’t help your situation.

You were used to people ignoring you. Nothing but a shadow in everybody’s life, a blur so easily forgotten.

As you walked towards the edge of town, you inhaled the fresh air of the outside world with a smile, hopeful.

_Please._

_Let me be forever free._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are very much welcomed ~♥


End file.
